The Magical Adventures of England
by quinndalynn
Summary: England hasn't met up with his wizarding community in years. When offered a teaching position at Hogwarts will he take the opportunity to see how his hidden magical side is fairing? Rated T for possible swearing, & future mentions of relationships.
1. Chapter 1 The Prologue

**Chapter 1/Prologue-ish dealie?**

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own any portion of **_**Axis Powers – Hetalia**_**. Or **_**Hetalia-Axis Powers**_**, however it goes.**

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><p>England was peacefully sipping a cup of Earl Grey (yes, spelled with an '<em>e<em>') when a regal-looking owl burst through the open kitchen window, with a letter affixed to the leg.

Nervously, for he hadn't dealt with his magic community in years, he untied the letter from the owl. The bird of prey gave him a look, and England sighed, then set out some food for it to eat while he unfurled the parchment with shaking hands.

_Dear Arthur,_

_It has been 14 years since our last talk, my friend! Recently, it has come to my attention that we are in need of a new __A History of Magic__ professor, as Binns has taken a year long absence to visit and study the Goblin Wars in Sweden. I was wondering if you would like to take the position, as I've heard that you know much about History._

_If you choose to join our staff, I will be waiting in my office next Monday at 1 o'clock to settle the agreement. If you'd rather not teach at Hogwarts, I understand, just send your rejection letter back with the owl. _

_Yours truly,_

_**Albus Dumbledore**_

_**Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry**_

England thought for a second, before clearing up his schedule for next Monday.

He was teaching at Hogwarts.

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><p><em><strong>AN: First chapter of first fanfic ever! Um, yes, one other nation will be teaching, but Dumbledore will mention it during their meeting, because it had only become an emergency AFTER the letter was sent. Guess which nation it'll be, cuz I already chose who. (Hint****- He'll**** be doing Care for Magical Creatures.)**_

_**Hm, I should be updating pretty fast, but I can't make any promises to y'all. **_

_**Also, yes it takes place during Harry's 5****th**** year. I think. I'll have to check.**_

**Constructive criticism accepted, and probably needed. Flames, not so much.**


	2. Chapter 2  The Interview

**Chapter 2, The Interview**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or Hetalia - Axis Powers.**

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><p>Smoothing out his robes once more, he checked his appearance in the mirror in a fastidious manner. This was his one chance to escape from his regular job and be Arthur, not England or Britain, or the United Kingdom. Just Arthur Kirkland.<p>

Patting his pockets to make sure he had what was needed, he took a deep breath and cleared his head before focusing...and appearing quite randomly at a record store in Texas. Whoops, Hog_warts_, not Hogwild Records*****. Focusing again, he felt his body being squeezed…before appearing outside of the front gates of Hogwarts.

Muttering to himself, he shook his head and began the seemingly neverending trek to Dumbledore's office, and paused in surprise when he reached the gargoyle's statue.

The gargoyle, sensing who he was, jumped aside to allow Arthur entrance without password. On the way up, in the circular passageway, Arthur was steeling himself for the official reintroduction of his magical side. Once he met a wizard, he couldn't just turn around and ignore the magical community. It was time to face the other side of him…

Rapping on the door politely, he heard Dumbledore's voice call him in and he turned the doorknob almost nervously, before manning up and opening the door with resolve.

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><p>Dumbledore was waiting behind his desk, eyes twinkling with wisdom and kindness. He folded his hands over one another before gesturing to the open chair on the other side of the desk, beckoning Arthur to sit.<p>

"Hello, Arthur. Time seems to have treated you well." Dumbledore smiled and pushed his glasses up a bit.

Arthur took his seat. "Yes, well…" He laid his hands in his lap, fiddling with his thumbs.

Dumbledore merely gave him a knowing look, before speaking. "Well, Arthur, considering that you're here, I assume that you've agreed to the job?"

Arthur was taken aback. "Aren't you going to interview me?"

"I've no need to, I know that you're very well suited to this job, although I don't know how you've gained more historical knowledge than Binns…" He trailed off, giving Arthur a mischievious look. "I also know that you aren't on the Dark side, although you do know much Black Magic."

Arthur blushed a bit, then said, "Well, when does my job begin?"

"A week before the new term. There will be a train for the staff to take on August 22nd, Platform 9 & 3 Quarters. The train leaves at 11 am, sharp."

Arthur nodded resolutely. "Yes, sir."

Dumbledore chuckled, "No need for such a formality…judging by how little you've aged, you're probably my senior."

Flushing again, Arthur asked, "Anything else, Albus?"

"Yes, actually…recently, another teaching position opened up, & I was wondering if you knew anyone who could fill it. Care of Magical Creatures needs a professor, too."

"But won't they need to be interv-"

Dumbledore cut him off. "I trust your judgement, Arthur. If anyone accepts the job, bring them with you to the Platform. If not, I have someone on hand. I just thought that you might have a more interesting professor in mind."

"I do, si-Albus. Hopefully, they'll agree."

"Other than that, I have nothing to ask. Do you need any special accommodations?"

"No. I have gotten a year off of my job."

"You are free to leave, then. Have a good day."

"You too."

As he left, he pondered how he would contact Tore…

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><p>With a loud crack, England appeared in Norway's kitchen. A little bugged that his breakfast had been interrupted<strong>*<strong>, Tore asked pointedly what he wanted. Despite Arthur being one of his few magical nation friends, he still liked to eat in peace.

"I was wondering if you wanted to teach at Hogwarts. You know, my magical academy?"

"So you apparate in my kitchen?"

"I'm sor-"

"I'll take the job. What position?"

"Care of Magical Creatures. I thought you were best suited to the subject."

"They allow nisses, right?"

"Probably."

"What time do I have to be there?"

"Be at the Platform by 11 am. See you there."

With a loud crack, England was gone, leaving Tore to eat his smoked salmon sandwich***** while pondering Norwegian Ridgeback dragons*****as a lesson…

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><p><em><strong>AN: Hey! I think I kept my promise! Thank you, reviewers.<strong>_

_**Hopefully I'll get my next chapter up by the 12****th****. **_

**Notes:**

*** Hogwild Records is a record shop in San Antonio, TX.**

*** I bet that it's about 2 or 3 hours of a difference between Norway & England. He was probably eating breakfast.**

*** That's a Norwegian type breakfast, supposedly. (I looked it up.)**

*** Norbert, from Harry's first year, was a Norwegian Ridgeback. Norway probably has a soft spot for them.**

**Constructive criticism welcome, and probably needed. Flames, not so much.**


	3. Chapter 3  The Trip

**Chapter 3 - The Trip**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter or Hetalia - Axis Powers.**

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><p>Hairpin glinting in the weak British sun, Norway, also known as Tore Jensen, calmly walked through a wall, and entered Platform 9 &amp; ¾. Dragging a trunk decorated with Norwegian metal bands &amp; flags, Tore looked around for a familiar mop of messy blond hair. Checking the time, he sighed as he realized he was a whole hour early.<p>

Sitting on his trunk, with his chin in his palm, he stared off into space and lost himself in his own thoughts…for a good 45 minutes. When this happened at meetings it could last a lot longer, but then the train came in whistling, alerting the Hogwarts staff of its presence and rousing Tore from his thoughts. Stretching his stiff muscles and cracking his back, he caught sight of large emerald eyes.

"Oh, Tore! There you are! I've been looking for you…you should really be a bit louder, mate."

"Hm. I kind of…lost myself there for a bit."

"Of course you did! You're going to be teaching at the best wizarding school in the world! Why wouldn't you be thinking?"

"…yeah. Sure." In all honesty, Norway had been pondering the idea of branding Iceland with 'Norge' on his chest, but he wasn't going to tell Arthur that.

"You all packed, Nor-Tore?"

"Yes." Norway mentally checked off the items: 10 pounds of coffee, 7 coffee mugs, 5 sailor suits, 7 pairs of Norwegian flag boxers, 3 ties for strangling Denmark with (you can never be too prepared), a few outfits for random occasions, and a broadsword…As well as a wand that he'd dug out from in between the sofa cushions. Denmark had shoved it there during one of his drunken rants, and Tore hadn't seen the polished spruce twig in awhile. Next to the trunk was a basket containing a large, furry, bored-looking cat with a collar that read 'Freki'*****. Yep, he had everything.

"When do we get on board, Arthur? "

"We can get on now!"

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><p>Minerva McGonagall was busily looking over lesson plans when two odd men walked into the compartment.<p>

"May I help you?" She was a bit apprehensive, she hadn't been told of any new staff lately, and one of these men looked very much like a Muggle.

"Oh yes, is this the professor's compartment?"

"Are you both professors this year? I wasn't aware of any staff additions."

"Yes, we're filling the positions for Care of Magical Creatures, and A History of Magic. Arthur Kirkland, glad to meet you."

Sensing the need for his introduction, Norway said the bare minimum, as usual. "…Tore Jensen."

"Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration professor, and pleased to make your acquaintance. Welcome to Hogwarts. Although I must admit that you two seem a bit young to be teaching…and, Mr. Kirkland, I feel as I know you from somewhere. Have I taught you before?"

"Well, we both have the qualifications for History of Magic, but he took the Magical Creatures instead. He has a…way with the animals. And no, I've never had you as a professor." Tore was only so adept with magical beasts because he'd rather hang out with them than nations.

A low "Hm." was Tore's only affirmation.

"Well, the train'll be off soon, you best sit down."

Doing as she said, they sat down next to each other, speaking in low voices so that the others wouldn't hear, ignoring the looks they got the whole trip.

"Yes, but don't you think that the Battles of Sweden and Denmark were quite unfair considering the use of creatures-"

"Depends on what creatures. Nisses were only messengers-"

"But they used dragons as well! Don't you think that-"

"Only for the purposes of roasting their food, that's nothing to do with-" This time it was the sound of the train grinding to a stop that interrupted Norway's murmured counter-argument.

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><p>The teachers went off their separate ways once at Hogwarts, used to the cut and dry routine. Dumbledore greeted the 2 new professors, informing them on when and where breakfast and dinner were to be served, and where their classrooms were as well as their offices and living quarters. Fortunately, Norway and England's rooms were connected by a bathroom, allowing them easy access to each other when they needed to talk about nation-ly things without raising suspicion.<p>

While England was placing his Union Jack boxers in the dresser next to his angel costume, waiter costume, and collector's issue of British Nudists Monthly (the first two he had packed for unknown reasons), Norway was pinning up one of his numerous Norwegian flags to match his bedspread. Alongside the flags were quite a few posters of bands, like Aqua, Mayhem, and A-Ha, which he just noticed was quite a varied selection, then he finally tacked on a poster of the Drillos********** and promptly fell back on the bed, falling asleep quickly without a hair out of place & a yellow cat curled up by his feet.

A similar phenomena was occurring in the room adjacent to Tore's, with posters of the Sex Pistols instead, and a comforter decorated with the Union Jack and safety pins, which he somehow fell asleep on anyways, as well as a Flying Mint Bunny that had somehow snuck in.

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><p>Far, far away, in a land unknown (which was actually just across the 'pond', but Alfred liked the Star Wars intro too much to not say that) a certain loud-mouthed American realized that something was missing. Something very important was missing, actually, and it was known as his daily dose of a sexy British accent.<p>

Picking up his phone, he called up the one person who could never say no to him (besides Arthur) and decided that they needed to come up with a plan. 'Cause he couldn't go on without his dosage of British smexiness as prescribed by Nurse Kirkland much longer. But that was a different story…

"Hey, Mattie?"

A sigh. "Yes, Al?"

"Call up your pervert of a Frenchie, we're going hunting for Arthur."

The sigh on the other end of the line went unheard as Alfred hung up, leaving Matthew to call up Francis before he was dragged into this mess without his comforting French lover.

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><p><strong>*Freki was the mythical wolf that Odin owned<strong>

**** the Drillos are the Norwegian soccer/football team**

_**AN: Sup? **_

_**Thanks, reviewers. **_

_**I didn't keep to my promise, but I'll try to keep this one: next Sunday, maybe? **_

_**Also, I won't change the pairings. I'm very narrow-minded about my pairings.**_

**_Well, until next time._ **

**Reviews & constructive criticism accepted & probably needed. Flames, not so much.**


	4. Chapter 4  The Great Feast

**Chapter 4 - The Great Feast (and other things)**

**Before You Read: Crap, it's hard to not use ampersands. I'm doing my best, though.**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia - Axis Powers or Harry Potter._**

**Key - 'thought'**

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><p>Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the Great Hall, Ron and his stomach grumbling for food, while Harry was studying a certain toad seated with the other professors. Hermione, the most observant of three, took note of 3 new professors.<p>

"I do wonder which one is taking the position of DADA."

"What are you talking about, 'mione?"

At her comment, the two boys took scanned the Head Table and noticed 3 people whom they had never seen before, but were soon distracted by Hagrid's absence.

"Hermione, where do you think Hagrid is? He can't have been replaced by one of them, right?"

"I don't think so, but…for now, let's listen to Dumbledore. He may mention it." Just then, a part of Dumbledore's welcoming speech caught their attention.

"-and this year, I gladly welcome 3 professors to our teaching staff! Please, some applause for Professor Umbridge, who'll be taking over Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Kirkland, who'll teach History of Magic for this year, and Professor Jensen, who'll temporarily be standing in for Care of Magical Creatures!" The teachers each stood and bowed in turn as their name was called.

Recognizing the toadish smile immediately, Harry spoke up. "Hermione – that toadish professor was at my hearing!"

"What?-" Hermione would've continued, but it was interrupted by a very breathy 'Hem hem'. The poor excuses for coughs got louder until Dumbledore let the pink cardigan clad creep take over and speak. While Harry and Ron tuned her out, Hermione paid attention to every detail – and when Umbridge finished, the bushy-haired girl came to a disturbing conclusion.

"The Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts!"

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><p>Tore and Arthur were stunned by the lack of respect, and by the time she had sat back down with a calculating smile, England was seething.<p>

'She's here for the Ministry! Now there's corruption where there's supposed to be protection in the magical community! I turn my back for a decade, and it's worse than before!' Granted, Arthur had felt the pain of Voldemort's rise, but this was getting ridiculous. Or as America would say, "ridonkulous".

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><p>Throughout the feast Tore and Arthur hardly touched their food, albeit for different reasons.<p>

Dumbledore noticed this, and encouraged Norway. "Jensen, please eat. The food here is quite safe. It won't bite you back, you know." The twinkling in his eyes was magnified by the candles as he spoke.

"Except that it might." While saying this, Tore glanced suspiciously at England before spearing a roasted potato with his fork.

Arthur on the other hand was worried. His large emerald green eyes were darting around, fretting over this and that. By the time that he and Tore were walking back to their rooms he was shaking a bit. Tore seemed a bit unnerved by his unusual display of unconfidence, and tried to calm him. Tried being a key word.

"Rest up, Arthur. You'll need it for tomorrow." With that, Norway entered his own room.

Oh God, he forgot about tomorrow.

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><p>Holding a T.V. remote in one hand and a lukewarm beer in the other, Mathias Rasmussen flipped through the numerous channels, the television screen flickering with each passing clip.<p>

"Aha! Found you!"

"-cruise like a Norwegian!"

'I love this commercial. I have to call Tore again. Congratulate him on the great commercials his cruiselines produce.'

Digging his phone out from his pocket, he ogled the phone's wallpaper (a shot of Norway's rear end while walking. Mmmhmmm. Dat ass…) for a second before realizing that he hadn't bothered Tore in an entire week. AN ENTIRE GODDAMN WEEK. How had he survived? It was amazing. Had he really just lounged on his couch for that long?

He tried calling Norway about 30 times when he realized something was wrong. Typically, he only had to call 25 times before he answered. Deciding that Tore was in grave danger (a "damsel in distress" as he put it), he rung up the person closest to Norway other than himself.

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><p>Iceland, also known as Dagur Stefansson, was chillin' with Hong Kong when his phone rang.<p>

Iceland doesn't always ignore his phone, he's too polite. The only time he'll ignore it is when "The Danish Way To Rock" comes blaring out of the speakers, indicating that the most annoying country was calling him. Then he silenced it. But…this was what? The 45th time he'd called in the past 10 minutes? Even Li Xiao was starting to get annoyed. With a sigh, he pressed the 'accept call' button.

"Hej! Iceland! I think Norge is in trouble!"

"And what makes you think that, idiot?" Iceland just couldn't understand how his brother ever fell in love with this imbecile.

"I haven't seen him in a week!"

"Did you try looking for him?"

"Well, I called. Even he wouldn't ignore so many calls. The only one to tolerate any more would be you."

"You are right…" Feeling dread pool in the pit of his stomach, he knew he was about to be roped into something stupid, and he wouldn't be able disentangle himself from the situation. With a pained look on his face he glanced at his boyfriend, who nodded in a stoic manner, silently agreeing to accompany Dagur on whatever he was dragged into.

"I'll be there in a couple hours! Pack your bags, we'll be hunting for Norge!" Without waiting for Iceland's consent, he hung up, obviously eager for an adventure.

Dagur sighed again, then closed his phone. "Come on Li Xiao, we better get ready."

Hong Kong nodded again before poking Iceland's cheek and standing up.

"Yeah…We're like, not getting out of this one, are we?"

"No…no, we're not."

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><p>In his bed, Norway was dreaming peacefully, with visions of a bruised and beat up Hong Kong in his head. He flipped over, before murmuring in his sleep.<p>

"Must get Iceland…chastity belt…"

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><p><em><strong>AN: Sup? <strong>_

_**Happy Holidays! This is my gift. Er, it's late. I kinda broke my promise to y'all. **_

_**Thanks to those who favorited, those who put this on their alert lists, those who reviewed, and to those who are reading but not doing anything else. I appreciate it. **_

_**If you're wondering, Hong Kong's full human name will be "Li Xiao Wang". **_

_**It's incredibly effing hard to not use ampersands. I use them in regular writing, too. It's a habit.**_

_**I'll try to get another chapter up soon. Maybe this week, maybe...**_

_**Till next time!**_

**Reviews and constructive criticism accepted, and probably needed. Flames, not so much.**


	5. Chapter 5  First Day

**Chapter 5 - First Day (Part 1)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia - Axis Powers or Harry Potter.**

Key:

'thought'

**text message**

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><p>Denmark, completely ignoring the commercial airline's policies, was listening to "Hospital"<strong>*<strong> and texting America at the same time. 'Multitasking, bitches! And they say I'm not smart…well, at least my phone is.'

"Mr. Rasmussen, I'm going to have to ask you to turn off your device!"

Mathias simply looked up at the flight attendant and smirked, who immediately flushed when the sapphire eyes peered up at her.

He turned up the good ol' Danish charm and dropped his voice to a seductive purr. "Don't you think you could make an exception…Yolanda?" He made a show of dropping his eyes to her nametag (which was pinned to her chest) before dragging them back up to her face.

She blushed impossibly brighter before stuttering out an apology and scurring away to go gossip with the other attendants about the (sexy) passenger.

Turning back to his phone, he saw that he had a message.

**y'know, i havent seen iggy lately. i called up his older bro, the redhead, and he said something bout a magical school in his land. u wanna join me in finding him?**

Furrowing his relatively thick brows, Denmark typed up a response.

**i havent seen norge around, either. there magic buddies, right? **

Ding! His phone went off. **yeah. **

Pushing the keyboard buttons with some force, he made a mental connection between the two. See? He was smart. **then i'll join. there prolly together, if thats the case. c u in scotland.**

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><p>Tore was eating his breakfast somewhat warily (he still didn't fully trust English food) when Sybil Trelawney laid eyes on him.<p>

"Dearie, no!"

He paused, the buttered toast halfway to his mouth when he realized that the exclamation had been directed at him.

"Don't use the butter! I foresee a shortage of it in the future!"

Norway glared at her, though the effects of it were diminished by his twitching eye. 'A shortage of butter in Norway would be a real problem…some of our most traditional foods would be inedible without it.'*****

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><p>'First class of the day, and it's the 5th years. They'll really judge me, won't they? They've already had 4 years of schooling...'<p>

Nervously, England began speaking.

"Okay, class, take out your textbooks."

With a groan, they all complied.

"And, using a charm that I'm sure Professor Flitwick's taught you, erase every single word within those pages."

The reactions were just hilarious: a few gasped, a couple stuttered, and others smiled quite brightly. Regardless of their reaction, each student did as they were told.

"In this class you will be lectured, and each week you must rewrite the chapter that we covered for that week. I will not be checking your books, I trust that you'll write. I will be testing the material covered every so often, so it would be in your best interest to write accurately so that you will have studying materials. Questions?"

A bushy haired girl in the front raised her hand.

"Yes?"

"Professor Kirkland, what will we be covering this year?"

"We'll start off with magical evolution. Then we'll work our way up to how certain types of magic spread across the globe through conquests and empires, and lastly we'll discuss relatively modern history, from about 1600 to 1950."

"Sir, what do you mean by 'magical evolution'?"

Pulling up a roll-away chalkboard, he wrote 'Olde Magick' in large print on one side.

"You see, Miss…?"

"Miss Granger, sir."

"You see, Miss Granger, what we call magic these days has come a long way from the pentagrams and rituals used in olden times. And before that, the magic of prehistoric days was based on elements rather than rituals and incantations." At that, he wrote 'Modern Magic' on the other side of the board, with an arrow directing one to the other. "Sadly we won't get to cover prehistoric magic this year, but 6th years will. It requires a higher level thinking that will be achieved after the basics are covered this year."

"I see."

Another hand rose in the air, and it belonged to none other but a Malfoy.

"Sir, are you a Mudblood? You must be, I've never heard the name 'Kirkland' before, and your teaching methods are a dead giveaway. You're obviously not qualified to be here, let alone teaching a great Malfoy such as I."

"15 points from Slytherin for questioning me, and another 5 for using a racial slur in my class. I won't tolerate any sort of misbehavior such as that in my class." Turning his eyes to the rest of his class, he said, "And let that be a lesson to all of you."

Malfoy sat back in his seat, astounded. He was obviously not used to being reprimanded.

'Whatever. Ferret-faced scumbag has to learn that not everything revolves around him.'

He continued answering the rest of the class's less important questions until it was time for the next class.

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><p>In the hallway, after class, Ron spoke up.<p>

"I really like that Kirkland bloke, don't you? I mean, I still hate the subject, we'll probably have a lot of work, and we're stuck with the Slytherins, but I really like the teacher. Even if he's got caterpillar brows. He's gotta lot of youth in him."

"You also just really liked to see Malfoy get one-upped. But I agree, Kirkland's a breath of fresh air. He's also alive…"

Hermione, in awe of the makeover A History of Magic had received, stayed quiet the whole way to their next class, Care for Magical Creatures.

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><p>At Iceland's little apartment in Reykjavík, Hong Kong was helping him pack.<p>

"Dag, we're like, the same size right? So I can just pack double for us and we don't have to worry about me."

"Yeah. You can just pick out some clothes in the closet."

Opening up the doors to the rather spacious closet, Li Xiao gasped. "Icey, why are there like, hundreds of chastity belts?"

"My brother's been sending them for as long as my physical age had reached approximately 13. I've been needing to burn them…"

Just then, the door was kicked open.

"Hej, guess what? We're goin' to Scotland, baby!"

Two simultaneous groans were heard from the room upstairs.

"If you say so…"

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><p>France, who'd been hiding in Canada's closet (naked, too), was now in Canada's car as they drove from Ottawa to New York City at a breakneck speed to go beat the crap out of Alfred before joining him to make sure that the American didn't die.<p>

But the first words he heard when they walked in were "Can I have 3 tickets to Scotland?"

He and France shared a look before saying "Mon dieu…"

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><p><strong>* "Hospital" is a song by a Danish band, Nephew. They're pretty good.<strong>

*** The Norwegian butter shortage has occured! That's probably a big problem, considering the fact that their main butter company's slogan is "Butter: makes lutefisk semi-edible." (or so I heard.) Tell me, please, if I'm wrong.**

_**AN: Sup?**_

_**Look, I kept my promise! **_

_**I'll try to have the next chapter up by New Years. Maybe, maybe...**_

_**I'll do Norway's first day and the Umbridge scene next chapter.**_

_**I edited the previous chapters. I didn't want to, but I was struck by a wave of motivation after having cleaned my room (which was absolute chaos beforehand). **_

_**Thank you, reviewers, readers, etc...you keep me going, as well as help me improve.**_

_**Till next time...**_

**Reviews and constructive criticism accepted, and probably needed. Flames...not so much.**


	6. Chapter 6 First Day, Part 2

**Chap 6 - First Day (Part 2)**

**I don't know anyone who speaks Norwegian, so Google Translate was used. "Idioter" is 'idiots' in Norwegian, apparently… "Drittsekker" is 'assholes'. I see Norway as the kind to take advantage of the fact that him speaking in another language makes it near impossible for them to understand. He also seems to curse a lot, but that may just be to insult Denny…**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia – Axis Powers or Harry Potter.**

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><p>Ugh. 2nd class of the day, and he was already feeling exhausted. Or maybe this particular year of kids was just really excitable. The third years in the previous class were more behaved…but these were 5th years.<p>

There was one student who seemed bearable, but still. A headache was imminent.

That one student raised her hand, however, and he lost a small bit of sanity. "Um, Professor Jensen, our textbooks are in Norwegian."

"Agh. You won't be needing them much, but sometime in the next month ask Professor Flitwick how to cast a translation charm on them. Er…what's your name?"

"Hermione Granger, sir."

"Right, Miss Granger, tell any of these idioter who care that if they need the book to charm it themselves."

"Yes, sir."

"HEY! SHUT UP! Oh, good, that got you quiet. I'm Professor Jensen, and I would just like to say that just because this class is outside doesn't mean that you can act like a bunch drittsekker! I've taught at Durmstrang, and they're well-behaved, so I expect the same from you." Blushing a little at his own un-stoic rant, Norway felt all their eyes train on him.

A red head speaking too loudly irked him, especially when he heard what he was he saying. "It's a bloke, right Harry?"

The bushy haired girl slapped his arm. "Ron! You can't just _say_ stuff like that…"

Ignoring their little conversation, he continued with the longest speech he had ever made in his life. Well, it at least felt like a speech.

"We will study creatures from my home. They should arrive from Norway next week, so until then we'll go over what you learned last year. I would start today, but you wasted so much time fooling around that your next class has already started. Now go!"

At this their eyes widened and they hurried to gather their things and scurry to the next class.

"I'm too old for this…if it was still in the Viking days I would've just settled it with a sword." He sighed and fixed his Nordic cross clip before mentally bracing himself for the 4th years that next class would bring.

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><p>After dinner, in the Gryffindor common room, two Prefects were discussing the day's events and worrying about Harry.<p>

"She seemed like a real hag, Hermione. D'you think he'll be okay?"

"Of course he'll be okay. If she were evil Dumbledore wouldn't have let her in."

"Yeah, I s'pose so…we should probably stop worrying."

"Yes, and you should probably start that Potions essay or Snape will have your head."

Pulling out some parchment and a quill, Ron started up another conversation to distract Hermione from the lack of work he was doing. "So, what do you think of Jensen? All I really got from him was that he's a real weirdo."

"In case you haven't noticed, Ron, all of the teachers here are odd. But yes, he does seem quite…peculiar."

"Seem? He is. Not even the wierdest wizards have curly hairs that float _next_ to their head. And I could've sworn that there was a dot floating next that hair…"

"It seems as if he and Kirkland know each other. I noticed them talking during the Great Feast."

"Oh, really? I didn't notice."

"Of course you didn't, you were too busy shoveling foo-"

Harry walked in through the portrait hole with a pained look on his face, interrupting Hermione's insult.

"Harry! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, did that Umbridge bitch do anything to you?"

"I'm-I'm fine guys, thanks for worrying…"

"If you say so, Harry…"

"Wanna play some wizard's chess?"

"Sure, Ron…Although it's not really playing if I know that you'll beat me anyways."

* * *

><p>A few days later, while sitting at his desk preparing lessons for Monday, Arthur sat up and stretched, ready for his break.<p>

He'd made it through the week, though barely. It was exhausting to answer everyone's questions while recounting memories that may have been painful to him. Even though they were supposed to be discussing magic's evolution they asked him questions from the most random of time periods…and then he got caught up in describing what had occurred at that point in history, how it affected them today, why it happened, and so on. Ugh…he could feel a migraine coming on.

Wait, a migraine? He never had head pains unless he'd been injured…or America was coming. No, that wasn't possible! He just had to be really tired…yeah, that's it. That _had_ to be it. Maybe he should get some sleep…he would catch up on plans tomorrow. In the morning, before school began. Yeah, next week could wait for a just a little while…

* * *

><p>Norway was pissed at the world that day. It seemed as if nothing really could go the way he wanted it to. Now, in the last class of the day, he recounted the events that took place in the last 9 or so hours to see if he had broken his previous bad-day record.<p>

It started off as a Monday. No one ever liked that particular day to begin with. But he awoke to a panicking Englishman, who was worried that he wouldn't be able to piece together ideas for class that day. Tore, ever polite, offered his help and lost track of time. By the time that he checked the clock, it was already far past the beginning of his first class. England, who didn't have such high-stress class such as Norway's, was perfectly fine, but Tore was screwed: the dragons he'd ordered had come in today, and without him at their side there was a large chance that some idiot kid would end up dead soon. He had to feed Freki before he left, too, and the cat only liked pudding for breakfast (how Freki had ended up with such a peculiar habit, Tore had no idea).

Thankfully, the 3rd years in that class were easily scared and had enough wits to stay away from the large dragons. The rest of the day was absolute hell in comparison. Every class brought about some imbecile, not unlike Denmark, to put all of their lives in danger because they hadn't been listening to him.

But now…now he could feel something coming. Something big. And stupid. And cocky and-

A large battle-axe was thrown with pin-point precision and landed in front of him, the blade stuck halfway into the ground and the handle obscuring his vision. The class gasped at the seemingly failed assassination attempt, but the hissing dragons and Norway knew better.

"Hej!"

"Class dismissed."

As they scrambled to get away from a possible cliché axe murderer, Norway turned around and braced himself for idiocy abound.

What he didn't expect was to see was five other nations accompanying said idiot.

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><p><em><strong>AN: Sup? Agh, I know I said New Years and now I'm like, a week late...is it too late to still wish you guys a happy New Years?<strong>_

_**I'll try to have next chapter up by Wednesday. Try. Maybe.**_

_**Thanks, reviewers. I realize that I have probably squicked Canadian readers out of this fic...curse my American-ness! Sorry about the Ottawa/Ottowa thing.**_

_**Am I the only one who likes the idea of England and Norway as tsundere magic buddies with self-proclaimed 'awesome' boyfriends? **_

_**As for HKIce, I like it because Iceland and Hong Kong seem like outcasts, even in their own little nation-cliques. And they're rather emotionless teenagers. It's so fitting...**_

_**Till next time (which is hopefully soon)...**_

**Reviews and constructive criticism both wanted and needed. Flames, not so much.**


	7. Chapter 7 Introductions

**Chapter 7 - Introductions**

**So, there's some mention of sex, but no smut. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia - Axis Powers or Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>Dumbledore sat smiling behind his desk, eyes twinkling behind his glasses as a plan formed.<p>

"So, I understand that you all know each other?"

Groans and sighs were heard from half of the occupants within the room, as well as weird (French) laughs and giggles from the other half.

"Great! I have a wonderful idea. Arthur, Tore, you two could use an assistant teacher, right?"

At those words, Denmark glomped Norway with a crushing hug from behind while England was lifted high up in the air and into America's arms, bridal-style. The two 'tsunderes' as Japan had dubbed them were blushing profusely with a frown on their face.

"Yes, they totally could!" Of course, loud-mouthed Alfred spoke for the four of them without a second thought, although no one argued with him.

Turning to France and Canada, Dumbledore continued. "As for you two…for some reason, I get the sense that one of you won't mind my suggestion at all, and the other will go along to keep him in check." At this, Matthew gulped.

Timidly, Canada asked, "What is your suggestion?"

"Well, I've been yearning to create a new position for years…but no one's ever wanted to teach the subject. Do you think you could, er…become our Sexual Education professors?"

"Ohonhon, of course mon ami! I've actually taught that very same topic at Beauxbatons as well. And mon Matthieu here," France grabbed Matthew by his shoulders for emphasis, "will most certainly join me! Oh, the idea of teaching l'amour to these frumpy British students..."

"Oh, does everyone here know magic?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Except for me. Kinda. I know some really old Norse spells, as well as how to handle dangerous magical species." Matthias released Tore from his vice-like grip to think over Dumbledore's question. True, he didn't know modern magic, meaning that technically he was out of the magical scene, but he had also picked up a few tricks from his Viking years.

The headmaster clapped his hands together. "Perfect! That means that you two," he pointed to Iceland and Hong Kong, "can transfer into Hogwarts without a problem! You'll be placed in sixth year. We'll get you Sorted right now, too…" Pulling out an old, leathery hat, he gestured to a stool which had magically appeared in the middle of the circular office.

"Please, take a seat."

Doing as told, Li Xiao, who was closer to the stool than Dagur, plonked himself down without much grace. So much for being raised by a "gentleman"…Although said "gentleman" had taught him the wonders of magic, so he couldn't really complain.

Placing the hat upon his head, he jumped when it began murmuring in his ear.

"Very cunning and greedy…however, a shielded heart that contains love balances it out. Your mind is as sharp as a raptor's talon, too. I imagine that you wouldn't fit in well with the Slytherins…Ravenclaw it is!"

Removing the hat and shaking his head to clear his mind, Li Xiao handed Dagur the piece of talking fabric.

A little fearful of anything supposedly inanimate that talked, Iceland pulled the drooping witch's hat over his unruly hair with a bit of hesitation.

"Aaaah…a very clever head that sits on these shoulders, I see. Only one place for you to stay…Ravenclaw!"

Taking the softly muttering hat up to its place on the shelf, Dumbledore chuckled a bit. "Seems as if the two of you are stuck together, too."

"Yes. Thankfully." Placing a kiss on Dagur's cheeks (which quickly flushed under Li Xiao's lips), Li Xiao subtly sent the message 'This right here is mine, bitches!' quite effectively.

* * *

><p>"Huh. Seems as if robes were somehow packed into my bag. Li Xiao?"<p>

"What? Oh, that? I figured that you can never be too prepared." Laying clothes out on their dorm beds, they were preparing for the next day.

"Tomorrow's Tuesday, right?"

"Sure is, Daggy-kins!"

"Goddammit, I told you not to call me that! You sound like Denmark."

Leaving his clothes unfolded on the bed, Hong Kong wandered over to Iceland and threaded his arms around Dagur's thin waist. With his chin placed comfortably on the Icelander's shoulder, he spoke softly into Iceland's ear, rustling the white hair a little bit. "Say, aren't you glad that we like, got a dorm all to ourselves?"

Not needing much more prompting, Dagur quickly turned around and pushed his boyfriend onto one of the empty four-poster beds, starting up what was to quickly turn into a frisky romp in which they officially "christened" their new dorm.

* * *

><p>Similar events were occurring all over Hogwarts at that very moment.<p>

* * *

><p>Taking seats at the back inconspicuously, Dagur and Li Xiao avoided the typical "new kid" speech and introduction by hiding their faces (Iceland especially didn't want to stand up – he was a little sore).<p>

Li Xiao took Dagur's hand in his, unknowingly attracting attention from a few…narrow-minded students.

A demanding sickly sweet voice called out to them. "You two! In the back! Would you mind telling me your names?"

Li Xiao answered for both of them, protective of his Icelandic boyfriend. "I'm like, Li Xiao Wang, and he's Dagur Stefansson."

"And would you mind telling me why you two are holding hands?" That falsely sweet voice turned higher in pitch with terseness.

"He's my boyfriend."

"Well, would you mind leaving that behind closed doors? I won't stand to have such a disgusting display of queerness in my classroom."

"No. Those two," pointing to a couple who were sucking off each other's face with a great ferocity, "are totally sticking their tongues down the other's throat. You didn't say anything about that, and it's like, 5 times worse. We won't let go until you tell them to stop."

As if explaining something to a very slow five year old, her voice continued to slide up the scales with stress. "Yes, but what they are doing is considered natural. You two are committing a moral sin."

"Didn't the Muggles say that about wizards?"

At this Umbridge lost all false pretenses of sweetness. "Meet me here after school for detention. I'm sure you'll have company, I know Potter'll land himself here again. No excuses from you two, detention comes first."

"Fine then, we will."

All throughout this interaction Iceland had kept surprisingly silent. Known for being hot-blooded due to his volcanoes, it was rare for anyone to get away with this sort of thing without him blowing up. Instead, however, he seemed quite shocked that wizards - of all things, _wizards_, who'd been discriminated against countless times – were discriminating against homosexuals.

Sitting through the rest of the period red-faced and angry, Dagur stomped out of the classroom when they were dismissed.

"Li Xiao! Silent white haired kid with the weird name! Hold on, I wanna talk!"

Turning around, the couple faced a pretty Asian girl. "Hi, my name's Cho Chang! I just wanted to say that I support you two, and so does the rest of Ravenclaw. We're smart enough to know better than those idiot Slytherins who were making weird faces at you guys." Turning on her heel and waving goodbye, she walked off.

"She seemed kind of arrogant, didn't she?"

"Whatever, Dag. All I know is that her cousin is a big guy in one of the Triad groups***** of Hong Kong."

* * *

><p>'Christ, I'm sore…' thought England, who was limping on his way to the classroom. As he neared his destination he was pulled aside by the bright bushy-haired girl whom he favored in his classes.<p>

"Um, Professor Kirkland?"

"Yes, Granger?"

"If I were you, I'd go inside the classroom carefully. There's an American man in there, and he's turning the room to rubbish with some sort of scientific experiment."

Opening the door, he peered inside to find half of the room spattered with red, white, and blue gloop in a poor imitation of the American flag.

The personification of America himself turned around to greet the Englishman, stopping from admiring his masterpiece for a moment. "Sup, British dude! I'm gonna totally be the best teaching assistant ever!"

* * *

><p><strong>*the Triad are gangs in China. A large concentration of them are in Hong Kong.<strong>

_**AN: Sup?**_

_**Look, I kept my promise!**_

_**Thanks, reviewers! Maybe it's because I'm new to this, but it seems like y'all are awesome.**_

_**Heehee, these pairings are so adorable (to me, at least). I figured that Hong Kong learned magic from England, Iceland from Norway, Canada from France (who has Beauxbatons), and America from England as well.**_

_**Um, I hope that I'll get the next one up by Sunday, but no promises. **_

_**Till next time...**_

**Reviews and constructive criticism both wanted and needed. Flames, not so much. **


	8. Chapter 8  The Assistant Teachers

**Chapter 8 - The Assistant Teachers**

**There's only some swearing in my own AN.**

**Disclaimer: I think we get the point: I don't own wonderful anime or books known as Hetalia - Axis Powers, or Harry Potter, respectively.**

**Before you read: To those worried about pacing, I totally agree. I read the last one and thought 'bleggghhh', but was waaaay too lazy to redo it.**

* * *

><p>The sound that England made couldn't really be described, but if you had to label it, it would be somewhere between "harpy" and "groan of frustration that doubles as sexy moan". Kind of like "EEEAgggghn."<strong>*<strong>

"Iggy, Iggy, your eyebrows just got thicker! Does that happen when you're mad?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to cool off, Arthur spoke in a strained voice. "What the bloody _hell _do you think you're doing, you sodding git?"

"Just spreadin' some good ol' Amurican prahd!" The grin never faltered, instead it just widened with the classic Southern accent that he knew irked England so much. "Why, I heard from the cow's mouth itself that I was the assistahnt teacha fo ya, nah aren't I?"

"Can you _please_ stop mangling the Queen's language?" Kids started arriving for class, milling around the door.

Not giving an answer to Arthur, Alfred just pointed to the entrance, avoiding a fight by distracting Arthur with the students.

"Right. I have to teach." Setting his papers down on the desk, England directed a _'scourgio!'_ at the messy wall before waving the students in.

"Now, class, this is Mr. Jones. He'll be in here for the rest of the year as my assistant teacher. He does know history well, but I would advise you to not ask him too many questions at once, as he is quite easily distracted." Arthur was smirking by the end of his statement, he just couldn't resist taking a jab at the superpower.

"Hey! That was cruel!" The students in the room winced at the American's volume, rubbing at their ears a bit.

"Alfred, would you please tone it down? The people in this country are used to a more respectable tone." That condescending smirk grew snarkier. "After all, not everyone can be the ugly American."

Many of the girls in the room thought, _"Well, he may be annoying, but he is far from unsightly…"._

America's retort brought England down from his snobbish cloud quickly, however. "Hey, we can always thank the British for sendin' over the best and brightest to start the party, huh?"*****

England wizened up, shaking his head to clear it. Pulling out a stool from pretty much nowhere, Arthur patted it and gestured to Alfred. "C'mon. Sit down, we actually have a class to teach."

Folding his arms and pouting childishly, Alfred resigned himself to the bar stool, knowing he wouldn't be of much help to Arthur. What a hero he was…

* * *

><p>Much of the day had been spent with Arthur lecturing while America made stupid comments. Once or twice he actually had something useful to say, but it was only on the subject of ancient Native American folklore and magic.<p>

Walking into the kitchen area of the tiny dorm-style kitchenette (since the arrival of the other nations, Dumbledore had changed the room assignments), England set a tea kettle on the wood stove. _'When will the wizards learn how much easier electricity is?...' _Sighing, Arthur muttered an ignition spell and pulled out some cups and teabags for him and Alfred.

Said nation came walking out of the shower just then, a towel slung low on his hips and blonde hair sopping wet. England faintly blushed at the sight of Alfred's firm abdominal muscles, slightly wondering how the hell he kept so fit when he shoveled garbage into his mouth like a pig at the trough.

"So, Iggy how'd I do today?"

"You were remarkably well-behaved. I mean, for someone as ADHD as you it's amazing that you didn't set something on fire or accidently crush one of the children. And I swear to God, if you shake out your hair like a dog I'll…"

"Hey, don't be so mean to me. You probably wouldn't get laid without me. And France doesn't count."

"I don't think I would have any trouble getting laid, I was quite the harlot back in the day. And it's not like France would bed me anyways; our love-hate relationship ended awhile ago." A loud moan followed by "Non, papa," could be heard from the room adjacent to theirs. "Yes, and for right now, he's got his hands all over poor Matthew…"

"My bro doesn't mind it. With all of his French influence, believe me, Mattie doesn't mind it."

The tea kettle began to whistle, and England removed it from the heat, pouring the water into the cups. "You like an ungodly amount of sugar in your tea, right?"

"Yessir."

Stirring their beverages, a sudden thought occurred to Arthur. "I wonder if Tore has murdered Mathias yet."

Not in the least bit concerned for his friend, Alfred cheerfully replied, "Naw, don't sweat it. Norway's always threatening him, but Mathias has only ever had his nose broken a few times."

* * *

><p>He couldn't admit it. No, really, it was impossible for him to admit it: Denmark hadn't been a nuisance. In fact, he'd been a great help whenever the dragons didn't want to comply with Norway. Well, actually, it was his oversized battle axe that helped out, but whatever. He was so skilled with it that it may as well have been a part of himself. Then again, the only reason why the dragons had become so agitated was due to Mathias's loudness.<p>

Even now, afterschool, Denmark was helping Tore clean up and feed the beasts, in the rain. Norway couldn't complain, for once.

Even the students, who were at first scared of the tall Dane, had been entranced by the amazing polearm skills that Denmark exhibited; surprised that such a seemingly clumsy idiot was so excellent at the art.

"Was I okay today, Norge?" Those bright blue eyes resembled a puppy right then, waiting for its master's praise. For once, Tore regretted all the times that he'd rejected Mathias; all Mathias ever wanted was to make him happy.

The pools of blue widened when he saw the slight grin on Norway's face. Tore leaned over to Denmark, ruffling up the already mussed hair with a seldom seen affection. "Ja, you did good." Kissing the surprised man's temple, Norway helped Mathias up from the ground where he had been pulling weeds. "Come on, let's go inside. Dinner will be ready soon."

* * *

><p>Dagur stood before the threshold to the classroom, his hand hovering and trembling over the brass knob.<p>

"Better to get it over with, Dag. She'll probably add more lines for every minute we're like, late."

"Yeah, I guess so…" Pulling open the door to the DADA room, Iceland's ears were met with the sound of a sweetly cruel voice.

"Oh, so nice of you two to join us."

* * *

><p><strong>* Think of the scene in episode 13 where Russia breaks Busby's Chair (the first time). The noise that England makes is just priceless. And his eyebrows turned, in classic anime fashion, darker.<strong>

*** Think of Greg Proops' skit on how America is England's Fault. It's fucking hilarious.**

**_AN: So, hey? Kinda screwed over my promise again, but at least it's here. Hell, if I didn't make a promise in each of the previous chapters I wouldn't be at this point. The reviews really help, though.  
>As to Hong Kong's accent: Yes, I have that down pat. I actually talk like that. Well, actually, I sound like a <em>**

**_Valley Girl sailor from Texas thanks to my overusage of 'like', cursewords, and my accent. Cuz ahm frum Texahs. (Translation: Because I am from Texas.)_**

**_Hehe, I can't resist adding the rain. It rained today, which happens once in a blue moon down here in South Texas._**

**_Some of you are prolly wondering as to which pairings are officially in here. The list is: HKIce, USUK, DenNor, and Franada._**

**_About the Franada: it's more of a fuck-buddy relationship. To be honest, I can only see them together in that way. Not a real serious couple. _**

**_Next chapter shall include the detention scene, a bar scene, more discrimination. But it's not set in stone. Hopefully, it'll be up by Sunday the 5th. Of February. Hopefully. _**

**Shit, this was a long AN. Reviews and constructive criticism are wanted, and most definitely needed (because nobody's perfect).**


	9. Chapter 9  The Detention

**Chapter 9 - The Detention**

**Some teenager-esque (aka, immature) mentions of sex. Like, "mmmm, dat ass!" sort of shit.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own either Hetalia or Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>While slowly approaching the toad's desk, Hong Kong and Iceland eyed the conspicuous quills she was holding out to the two of them.<p>

"Here. Take these quills, you will be using them to write your lines. Harry and I were just waiting for you degenerates to show up so we could begin."

'**Harry?'** thought Dagur. Looking behind him, he discovered that there was indeed a stony-faced teen sitting at a desk, holding the quill in his open palm as if he were weighing it. His jet black fringe hung over forehead and obscured his eyes, preventing Iceland from deciphering any component of his expression, save for his grimly set mouth.

"Pay attention, you filthy sodomites." Once she saw that Dagur had turned back around, Umbridge continued. "Once you sit down, I'll give you the parchment with your line on it. You will rewrite it in the exact form you see it, with every bit of punctuation. 300 times. No magic, or I'll double it."

Taking desks a few seats behind the kid whose name was apparently 'Harry', they took the quills and unfurled the parchment she'd handed to them.

'_I will not flaunt my disgusting homosexuality.'_

'That's a long line…looks like Harry got a shorter one.' Hong Kong could somewhat see the top of the Harry's paper.

"Start writing!"

The three of them self-consciously glanced around, as if the shadows were watching them submit to the toad's will, then let the quill scratch the first words across the slightly yellowed parchment.

Harry was the first one to comment on the pain that immediately followed writing the line. "Ow! Merlin, what type of quills are these?"

"I see that you noticed their…special qualities. I simply thought that this would help the message, you know, _sink in_." She hissed out the last two words as if they were held sacred by her. "Now, get to work!"

The trio gritted their teeth and continued.

* * *

><p>The hour had passed in silence, the only exception being the sound of their skin slicing open and closing as their quills <em>skrtch-ed<em> out each gruesome line.

The three had finished at nearly exactly the same time, the 2 boys with longer lines being more used to pain, and therefore, being faster than Harry.

Inspecting their hands as they handed in their work, Umbridge made a 'tsk-tsk' sound. "It would appear that the message needs to sink in more. If you toe the line once more, my dears…believe me, I'm very glad to give out detentions. Now get out of my office."

* * *

><p>Returning back to the Gryffindor common room, Harry was met by Ron and Hermione.<p>

"Harry, how was the toad?"

"She made me do some lines…" Harry made sure that his right hand was hidden as he said this. "Nothing too bad."

"Well, mate, you're not gonna believe this!"

"What?"

Hermione cut in. "They're starting a Sex-Ed class here. Ron's happy because he thinks that they'll show a stag film."

"They are?"

"Yep! Look at the notice!" Ron was pointing to a large sign in the common room that Harry hadn't noticed before. It was very gallant, with elegant gold script.

Reading it aloud, Harry had to squint to decipher the swirling letters. "You boring British kids will be taught the ways of love by moi and my lovely…maple leaf? Mathieu. Classes begin next Monday for 4th years and up. Professor Dumbledore shall give you a pamphlet outling the class syllabus and schedule tomorrow morning. Signed, Francis Bonnefoy." Turning back to his friends, Harry visibly deflated. "Have we got another nutjob who's going to assign us work? I still have to finish rewriting Chapter 3 for Kirkland, I need to practice the Vanishing spells, and the sketch for the dragons was never finished thanks to Draco." Harry groaned in frustration. "Can't they give us a break!"

His friends shared a look before grabbing their own textbooks and hunkering down for a night of homework.

* * *

><p>Walking back to the Ravenclaw tower, Hong Kong and Iceland were comparing scars.<p>

"Look, mine is whiter than yours."

"Yeah, but mine has better penmanship."

"Doesn't change the fact that I always top."

"That has nothing to do with this!"

Answering the riddle to the common room entrance, the pair made their way up to the dorm, but not before being stopped by Chang.

"Hey, before you revert to being anti-social, I'd read the notice."

Doing a double take at the notice with unmistakable French handwriting, Dag and Li Xiao facepalmed before running back up to their dorm.

* * *

><p>Harry tossed and turned, sweating as his dream self began running down the very same corridor that had been haunting him all summer. He could feel the door-knob, if he could just turn it…<p>

"Harry, c'mon, wake up!" He saw flaming red hair through his sleepy eyes. "We have to go to breakfast!"

"Fine, fine…" He muttered, before dragging himself out of bed. "I'm coming…"

* * *

><p>"Mathieu, you are so cute…" Smacking the Canadian's ass, France chuckled. "Just look at the way you blush when I do such small things."<p>

Matthew slapped Francis for the umpteenth time in history, before gathering the pamphlets in his arms and huffing. "I'm leaving for breakfast, dickwad. If I don't see you down there in 5 minutes, I'll tell Dumbledore to burn all of your beloved pamphlets before he passes them out."

"Mathieu, did you learn such foul language from Arthur? I know it was not from me. You should curse in French, mon petit lapin. You could tell someone to fuck themselves in French, and it sounds beautiful." *****

"Whatever." With that, Matthew left Francis alone in the cold room.

"Heh, Mathieu may have a serious relationship with Gilbert, but he always returns for more. Thank God Gilbert isn't the possessive type."

* * *

><p><strong>* You know that France would say that.<strong>

_**AN: So, hey. I'm sick, so I didn't edit this. I'll do it tomorrow.**_

_**I felt bad about not updating in awhile. Pretty much pulled this out of my ass. I was sick all week. Sorry it's kinda short. I also apologize for not having the bar scene here. It didn't really fit. Next chapter will have it.**_

_**Love y'all. Heh, reviewers are like crack.**_

_**Till next time, which is hopefully in about a week or two. Probably before March. I know that y'all have the power to guilt-trip me into writing chapters.**_

**Constructive criticism and reviews are love. Flames are the opposite.**


	10. Chapter 10 Dumbridge the Witch

**Chapter 10, The Beginning of Something Sinister**

**Disclaimer: I don't own APH or HP. Abbreviations ftw!**

**Before you read: Just some alcohol. Some cussin'. I mean, the first part of the story _is_ a bar scene, y'know.**

* * *

><p>It was Friday night, and the nations were chillin' at the Three Broomsticks. Just chillin', yo.<p>

"I feel…like we're missing something." This came from a certain axe-wielding Dane, who, at the moment, was slamming down shot after shot of akvavit*****.

"I dun' know 'bout you, but I dun' need anyone 'cuz I'm the bloody United Kingdom…" This was said by our favorite tsundere Brit, who'd had one too many scotch on the rocks.

"Hehe, Iggy's drunk. But…something's off. It's almost like…we're not complete." And this was stated by an oddly sober, typically obnoxious American.

Notice something? Yeah, they were missing an important component.

Denmark slapped his down on the table, exclaiming "Gilbert!"

"That's who we're missing, bro! Dude, if he was here we could be the _Awesome_ Fail Brothers!"

"I wuz never a 'fail' brother…unlike you, America, 'cuz you just left me!" Arthur's green eyes filled with tears as he gripped America's shirt tightly, sobbing and wailing into the fabric. "And then you had the nerve to burn my entire pirate wardrobe afterwards…"

"Chill, brosef. Francis just stole all of your pirate clothes because he thought they were sexy!"

"Ah, yes, mon cher. They're all in my Parisian apartment back home, just waiting for you to model them for me…"

"Shut it, you frog!"

"Who wants to have a drinking contest?"

Canada sat unnoticed, but gladly so. He had a feeling that Monday was going to be a total disaster, and as such, he was preparing a letter to his good friend, the Netherlands, for some…herbal stress relievers. Al had never approved of Lars and Matt being buddies (but nothing more!), so Canada was glad that America wasn't breathing down his neck.

He sealed the letter, then made his way to the owlery to send it off to Amsterdam.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, on the other side of the pub, Norway was having a three-way staring contest with Hong Kong and Iceland. No one budged, blinked, or faltered. Then suddenly, out of the blue, Tore said, "What's that on your hand?"<p>

"Huh?"

"You've got some fading scars on your hand…Both of you."

"Oh, that's nothing."

"Nothing, my ass. Give me your hand, Ice."

Red-faced and pouting, Iceland stuck his hand out for Tore to inspect.

"What the…? Who did this to you two?"

Neither answered, just turned away.

"Tell me."

"Umbridge." It was Li Xiao who broke the one way conversation.

"What?"

Dagur answered, his voice bubbling with bitterness and contempt. "Professor Umbridge's detention included writing some lines. Turns out they were blood quills."

Norway sighed. "I need a drink. I'll deal with this tomorrow." He paused, remembering what he had originally wanted to talk to Hong Kong and Iceland about. "But first, I want you to tell me why you two think that you can get away with skipping History and Caring for Magical Creatures…"

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><p>Tore didn't deal with it the next day. Instead, Norway spent his Saturday nursing a hangover, and he wasted Sunday out in the game pens, tending to his magical pets. It wasn't until he saw the now white scars on Iceland after Monday's breakfast that he remembered to bring it up with the toad.<p>

Heading over to her office, he realized that she wasn't anywhere to be seen…and, honestly, what does a person like her have to do? She, like Tore, had a free period for that first hour of the day, and it's not like she had any students who would willingly visit her office.

Ah, whatever…he could deal with her later. He needed to go grab his dragon riding equipment. Fireproof phoenix hide boots, basilisk leather harnesses, and the like. Today was going to be very long…

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><p>Matthew, our favorite maple leaf, paced nervously as the first students of the day appeared. Oh, god…this was going to be an absolute disaster. Although Francis' signature leer was not showing, you could tell he wanted to rip off his clothes to reveal a rose (and not much else). You could see it in his eyes, the desire to 'spread the love' across Hogwarts was blatant in those darkened sapphire pools.<p>

And now…now, every student was settled in, all the fourth years were staring expectantly at France, waiting for instruction. Or simply wondering who Matthew was.

"Ah, the subject of amour…I, Francis Bonnefoy, am so honored to be able to teach you uptight Brits about love." Francis noticed a young girl raising her hand. "You there! With the red hair! What is your name, Mademoiselle?"

The girl blushed furiously, but answered anyway. "Um…Ginny Weasley. I was just wondering who he is," she said, pointing to Matthew.

"Oh, he is here to help me. Introduce yourself, -"

The door creaked open, revealing Dolores Umbridge. "Matthew Williams? Co-teacher? Could you please step out for a minute to have a word with me?"

* * *

><p><strong><em>*akvavit - some sort of Danish booze<em>.**

**AN: Well, I sorta kept up my promise. Anyways, I love my reviewers, as always. Keep 'em comin'.**

**Don't worry, neither Prussia or the Netherlands will be really involved. Thought they're my two fav characters.**

**This was a filler sort of chapter, but I felt like we needed it.**

**So, hopefully I'll get chapter 11 up before St. Patty's day, but...no promises. **

**See y'all then!**


	11. Chapter 11 Spliff Politics

Matt squeezed himself through the threshold, gulping nervously as he closed the door and stood before Umbridge. Though he was a good deal taller than her and she had to look at him, he felt that it was the other way around. He was intimidated by her toad-like countenance, staring him down.  
>Deciding to take the plunge he stuttered out, "Ah, w-what was it t-that you wanted, ma'am?"<br>She let out a disappointed "tsktsk" sound at his stuttering, demeaning him further. "I merely wanted to ask you what exactly 'marijuana' is."  
>He gasped. "What?!"<br>"It appears to be a muggle plant. I'm rather curious as to what muggles use the plant for." She appeared to be memorizing all of his anxious movements, reading his body language and gauging his reactions with her bulbous eyes. He briefly wondered if she had a visual advantage with such a pair of eyes.  
>He mentally shook himself, then answered far more bravely than he felt. "It's merely an herbal remedy, a mildly relaxing psychoactive plant that has typically been cured and smoked like tobacco for centuries. Why?" Wow, he impressed himself with that smooth little speech. Even she seemed fairly sated, her eyes no longer cutting at him.<br>"Oh, for no reason." She dismissed him with a flippant wave of her hand as she walked primly away.  
>He breathed a sigh of relief, hand over his chest, then began panicking again once he realized he now had to walk back into the classroom. God only knew what sort of mess Francis had created.<p>

Deciding to bravely face the music, Matt took yet another calming deep breath before quietly pushing the door open into the room, ready to fix any problems.

* * *

><p>Ginny and her fourth year friends walked dazedly out of the classroom, bumping into the Golden Trio on the way out. The fifth year group had been walking to Trelawney's, but were now intrigued by Bonnefoy and Williams's class. The fourth years wore a thousand-yard stare typically reserved for war torn veterans.<p>

"What happened in there?" Ron voiced the collective question, expecting some humorous story.

Ginny exhaustedly replied, "It was...a bloodbath." Then her and her group walked on, leaving Hermione, Harry, and Ron to exchange frightened glances. They had the class the next day after all, and they really didn't think they could deal with any 'bloodbaths'.

* * *

><p>Canada hurriedly opened his package from Lars, noticing that the outer packaging seemed tampered, though the weed appeared to be left alone in its sealed vial.<p>

He sighed in relief, tossing the accompanying letter to the side to read later "Ah, the Northern Lights...how I miss you."

He would have to mention the tampering of his package to England, though.

* * *

><p>The next day saw England at the government offices. He had left America to lecture on the integration and influence of Native American shamanistic practices and beliefs into modern magic.<p>

He was rifling through files in the ministry, but to no avail. He couldn't find any of his personal files, nor Tore's, Alfred's, Matthew's, Francis's, Dagur's, Li Xiao's, or even Mathias's. All of the countries' files had been promptly copied and filed into the ministry's system just a few days ago, in the highest security file room, or so he'd been told. Yet now he couldn't find the files at all.

He questioned the guards about it.

"Sir, the Malfoys requested them."

"And?"

"...they have a lot of money, sir. And a lot of power."

Arthur mentally facepalmed. He couldn't blame the guards, however. They only wanted to keep their job, and the wizarding society had power inequalities as bad as the muggle society. "Did they say why?"

"No, sir."

After he'd heard of Umbridge suspiciously questioning Matthew, in conjunction with the conspicuous tampering of Canada's mail, he'd headed to the ministry's headquarters to check on the safety of their files. He didn't want to even imagine what Lars might have accidentally written in that letter, but whatever it was must have piqued her interest. They'd have to be more careful to conceal their identities.

His stomach dropped in anxiety. He knew that Umbridge was a ministry watchdog. That was bad enough, but having the Malfoy's involved? He briefly thought back to Draco's anger at him. He wouldn't put it past the boy to leak info to Umbridge in a bid to get him out of Hogwarts. That wasn't even the worst. The Malfoy family was infamously involved with the Death Eaters. The last thing he needed was having Voldemort knowing just who he was. He'd just have to hope that the censoring charms on the files held up.

He sighed, and apparated straight to the Hogwarts border without so much of a thanks to the guards. He would need a drink after he relayed these events to Dumbledore.

* * *

><p>Tore soared high above his awed class, swerving quickly as a poleaxe flew at him. 'Asshole,' he thought, looking down at Mathias's grinning face.<p>

He'd been having a successful and calm ride, but the dragon was still easily excitable, and Denmark wasn't much help. The dragon had only been tamed a few days before, so riding was still iffy.

He skimmed the ground, and urged the Norwegian Ridgeback to fire a short burst of flame at Mathias. His class shrank back and shrieked, but they were in no danger as Denmark had been standing quite a bit away from the crowd. Denmark ducked, leaving only his wild hair to be singed. He quickly jumped back up, cheerful and crazy as always. "You never cease to surprise me, Tore!"

Norway merely huffed, and took off into a powerful vertical stroke, which was one of the more advanced maneuvers he had urged his class to take notes on. Leveling out, he noticed a small figure - short, blond, and seemingly irritated - making its way towards the castle. He wondered what England had been up to before deciding to focus on his next move. He'd ask Arthur later.

He settled into a long glide before thinking back to his first hour this morning. He'd used his conference time to hunt down Umbridge, who was in her office today, unlike her unusual absence the day before. He won't elaborate much, but it's safe to say that Tore had 'coerced' her into alleviating any current and future detentions on Li Xiao and Dagur. The fear on her face when he promised to torture her one hundred times what she had done to his little brother was enough to convince him, but a small niggling at the back of his head made him think that crossing her wasn't such a good idea. Even now, during third period with half of the fifth years, he felt a tinge of doubt that he ignored in favor once again concentrating on the dragon beneath him.

He would definitely have to ask England about Umbridge later.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts on the muddled subject, he settled for throwing another ball of flames at Mathias, eyes softening as he saw the enthusiastic man dodge the fire happily.

He landed and dismissed class; he could see Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff sixth years approaching from the castle.

* * *

><p>Dagur and Li Xiao diligently avoided interacting with Mathias and Tore for the first half of class, despite being in the same breathing space. But that peace could only last so long, before Norway wrangled Iceland into joining him on the dragon, prompting Hong Kong to wolf whistle at the view of Iceland's rear on the dragon.<p>

No wonder Denmark loved watching Norway ride these beasts.

Their last class had been with Umbridge, who had blanched when she saw them, but hadn't spoken a word, other than to tell them that their detention was cancelled. Though they were glad, they knew that Harry hadn't the same fate, and pitied the poor fifth year.

Still, they could freely hold hands, and Li Xiao felt much happier being able to express themselves without the looming threat of corporal punishment. They weren't a wordy couple, and so they relied on blunt words and physical actions to convey their feelings as blatantly as possible. Not that they cared what Umbridge thought, but it was nice to know that she couldn't discriminate towards any student now without being considered unfair.

Watching Iceland's open face, which reflected a similar range of emotions, he knew his boyfriend felt the same.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to see Cho Chang. "What did you two do to get into her good graces?" she asked, recalling the scene from their second hour. Dumbridge publicly apologizing was an unexpected sight to all, no matter how begrudgingly she had given her apologies.

Hong Kong shrugged, replying, "I dunno, but I have a suspicion that it may have had to do with Dagur's big brother."

"Dagur has an older brother?"

"Yes," he answered, pointing to the figures on the dragon. "Professor Jensen."

If Cho was surprised she hid it well, instead appearing to thoughtfully store the information away like any good Ravenclaw would before returning to her notes. Li Xiao followed suit, deciding that it would be a good idea to actually get some notes in before he had to face Tore's wrath (again).

* * *

><p>In the Gryffindor common room that night, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all compared their exhausting experiences from the day.<p>

Ron was exasperatedly complaining about the order of classes. "Bonnefoy and Williams in second hour, then Jensen in third? Absolutely nuts scheduling right there."

"How was Bonnefoy with the fifth years?" Ginny asked, curious if it was any better or worse for them.

"You were right," Harry sadly moaned. "It _was_ a bloodbath. I feel so bad for Professor Williams. He has to deal with that all day."

Hermione began to talk about how amazed she was that the legendary Pocahontas had brought a Native American magical influence to Britain (she was even more amazed that Jones had proved to be competent in giving lecture), but no one seemed to share her interest. She changed the topic to appeal to the small-minded boys. "Oh, but did you see Professor Jensen's flying?" Hermione had been in awe of the beautiful sight of man and beast working as one earlier.

"That was so cool!" Ron exclaimed. "I don't think even my brother can fly on dragons just yet."

Harry snorted. "I thought Jensen was going to kill Rasmussen." His hand still hurt, but he was determined not to let it show. He asked Hermione for her notes on flight, and the three settled down for a long night of homework. He distantly hoped that he wouldn't awaken to a pain in his forehead to tonight, as he desperately needed the rest.

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><p>Author's note: guys im so so sorry that it's been over two years. my mom was diagnosed with cancer and then i just sort of focused on school and taking care of the house and shit...but lately this story has had a few reviews and favs and follows and to everyone that's done that, you guys are fucking saints. so for whatever reason today i felt the need to churn this out. i feel so much guilt but now i feel some relief. school starts in three weeks, so i might put one more chapter out before then, but i promise that this story will get finished. im also gonna work some more on my other story. im feelin the angst that is required to write about iceland as a heroin addict (i just read trainspotting, so maybe that's why im inspired)<br>i hope that if my writing style changed, it changed for the better  
>i wrote this all on my phone and hardly proofed it so please be nice<br>also, i reread this fic and im so embarassed. how can you guys have liked this?!  
>this chapter is basically tying up some loose ends so that the plot can continue developing next chapter. its getting a bit more dramatic.<br>all reviews/favs/follows/etc are deeply appreciated.  
>p.s. i hope that it doesn't take another 2 years for the next chapter. also, this is a 2k chapter?! i only write chapters longer than 2k when doing smut. personal best.<p> 


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